


together, we can just be our surface selves

by starforged



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Mild Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Stress Relief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25189399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starforged/pseuds/starforged
Summary: When you're really just friends, the whole benefits thing just works.
Relationships: Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: Rare Pairs Exchange 2020





	together, we can just be our surface selves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morphosyntactic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphosyntactic/gifts).



“So, this is where you live?”

Sasha glances around her flat at the same time as Tim is inspecting it. It’s organized, painfully so. And sparse. She spends so little time here some weeks, especially when Gertrude needs her for one task or another. Notebooks are stacked neatly on a coffee table, full of notes on various objects in the Institute. A fine layer of dust covers the rest of the table. There are a couple of paintings on the wall that she’s picked up from thrift shops on her walls, old and peeling. Family photos on an entertainment center. 

She crosses her arms over her chest. “If you are about to say something about it, I promise this is the only room you’ll see.”

Which might be for the best because she _knows_ there are dirty dishes in the sink still, probably the one thing here that has any claim to having an inhabitant. 

His grin is bright and handsome. It’s hard to not be attracted to Tim Stoker, who is both absolutely charming and irritating. He gets under your skin and pokes at you until you have no choice but to pay attention to him. Sasha views it with a bit more fondness.

She hasn’t had time for many friends lately. Weird shit keeps happening at work. Weirder than usual. Their boss is gone more than she’s there, always leaving her and Tim and Martin with the strangest requests. Tim is always there, making her laugh, interrupting her work before she becomes too consumed with it. 

“Oh, no worries. I’ve done it on plenty of couches.”

Her face heats up despite herself, a warmth that flushes up her neck and down, down. “You’re making me regret this already.”

She really isn’t.

Because when he suggested they should take some time to relax, she had suggested they should just have sex then. He hadn’t seemed surprised. Probably because he was used to that offer. 

One arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He’s solid against her, warm. Sex is great for stress relief, and she couldn’t deny the stress that had been taking over her body lately. The house she had gone to for a second interview for Gertrude had been in the back of her mind for weeks now, the darkness always edging closer and closer. 

She wraps her arms around his neck. Workplace romances are always a bad idea. She’s known that for years now. 

“What are you thinking about?” Tim asks her. There’s a serious light that enters his eyes as he looks at her. This is supposed to be fun, she reminds herself.

“I don’t want to have sex on my couch,” she tells him. It’s not a lie. She’s got a great bed, and the couch is a lumpy hand-me-down. 

The way he watches her is unnerving, like she can see that serious man underneath his casual exterior. He buries it so deep beneath his glib and jokes and flirting. If they were different people, in a different profession, with different stories, maybe there could be something serious here. 

And then he’s surface-Tim again, and she commits to being surface-Sasha. 

He leans in, lips soft against hers as he kisses her. Oh, he’s good at this, the way he plants his hand against the small of her back and tips her backwards a bit. The way his tongue runs along her bottom lip but doesn’t persist in trying to shove into her mouth. God, even the way he smells feels like it’s all part of the seduction. She lets herself be swept up in it, sliding her hand up the back of his neck until her fingers are weaving into his hair. Soft. He sighs against her mouth before crushing her against him. 

She can’t wait to get his clothes off. 

\--

She’s sprawled out on top of him a few hours later, his skin still hot against hers. One of his arms is tucked behind his head, propping it up a bit. The other hand is in her sweat soaked hair, running his fingers through it over and over. It’s soft and intimate. Her face is pressed against his neck. 

“You know that I haven’t seen a movie in years?”

“Really? Even at home?”

Tim grunts. “Okay, fair point. I haven’t been to a theatre.”

Sasha laughs. “What the hell do you do when you go on dates?”

“Dinner and bed is just so much more entertaining, Sasha.”

She leans up, just enough to look him in the eye. “I don’t remember dinner.”

“And here I thought this wasn’t a date,” Tim points out.

They both laugh, and it’s so easy, so natural. There isn’t any need to fear awkwardness between her and Tim at work because this is exactly how it looks, how it feels. Friends, sex, stress relief. 

She kisses him, slow and languid. His hands are on her hips, fingers digging in. “It’s not,” she says against his lips, breath mingling. 

Sasha likes Tim, but in the easy distinction of a teenager, she doesn’t _like like_ him. He’s too fucked up, and she doesn’t have the time to dig through his layers. She can’t heal the pain of losing his brother because she’s fairly certain _nothing_ will heal that pain. And the further they dig into the weird things in the world around them, the more Sasha knows that neither of them would be good in a relationship. If there was any proof needed of that, it was Gertrude Robinson. 

Which, considering her current position and situation, is probably not the sexiest thought to have at the moment. 

She’s always had the problem of thinking too much. It’s why she’s even bothering with crossing this line with Tim. She needs to go silent.

“But,” she continues, “you can stay the night.”

He rolls her over, settling himself on top of her, between her thighs. Both of his hands are on either side of her head, holding himself up. His smile is soft but he winks to give it an edge that makes her more comfortable. “I _am_ going to be pretty exhausted. It’s the least you can do.”

She slaps him in the shoulder. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

“I’m a pain in everyone’s ass, Sasha.” 


End file.
